


Please Teach Me

by soultyghost



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cooking Lessons, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Kitchen Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Sex, don't expect any recipes here, this is just porn i couldn't bring myself to show it to a beta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 14:36:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20565977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soultyghost/pseuds/soultyghost
Summary: When Claude said 'hands-on,' he really meant it.





	Please Teach Me

**Author's Note:**

> do you ever just listen to one of your fav r18 situation cds for some...self-love....and then suddenly thought of a rare pair? yeah...don't look at me...

“You want to make sure that your hands and utensils are dry or the oil’s gonna pop and hurt you. It’d be a shame if your first kitchen injury happens to be a rookie mistake,” Claude said semi-seriously. 

“Claude.”

“So you start off with frying the spices with the onions and garlic. Don’t just throw everything one shot, you gotta take things slow.” Claude continued as he adjusted the heat. “Ingrid, relax your grip, it’s a spatula not one of those sticks you use when you play polo.”

“Claude!”

“Okay, okay, I know you’ve told me what they’re actually called like maybe hundreds of times, but it just slips my—YOWCH!” Claude immediately shook his hand in the air as though to get rid of the pain. “That hurts,” he whined.

“Oh please,” Ingrid said, the effectiveness of her glare lessened by the deep flush all over her face and neck. “I just pinched you. A-anyway, if it hurts so much then won’t you let go of my waist?” 

Claude’s grin stretched from end to end as he tightened his hold on her. “You did say you’re good with a hands-on approach.”

This was true. About an hour ago, Claude had come home from work on time, having already made plans with Ingrid to go out for dinner in celebration of his promotion. It had been quite a shock for him to find her in the kitchen, surrounded by fresh ingredients. 

Not to say that she had never stepped foot in the kitchen, no. Ingrid loved to eat and Claude loved to cook (and also eat) so they spent almost as much time together in the kitchen as they do in their bedroom. What made his heart stop was the sight of his newly-wedded wife in his apron, eyebrows furrowed as she listened earnestly to the instructions Claude’s mother was rattling off through the phone’s loudspeaker.

She had wanted to cook biryani for Claude. It was a time-consuming and kind of difficult dish to make for her first try, but most importantly, it was a traditional dish on his side of the family. It was a sweet gesture. Claude almost couldn’t bear it. 

After a brief conversation, Claude hung up on his mom and took over her job. He didn’t even bother to change out of his suit, merely dressing down to his shirt and pants because he didn’t want to spend a moment apart from Ingrid. Even if it meant literally holding her hand as he guided her through the process.

“Ugh, you can be so clingy sometimes. Okay, fine, do what you want,” Ingrid grumbled half-heartedly after he had said as much. 

Holding back a snicker, Claude resumed his instructions…and his plan. He had to really give it to Ingrid. No matter how much he teased her, whether it was dropping his voice into a whisper or licking her ears or slipping his hand under her shirt, she said nothing. The only indication of his effect on her was her quickened breath and the way she would sometimes shiver.

“What’s wrong, Ingrid?” he asked when she suddenly stiffened in his arms.

“Y-y-your…” Ingrid stuttered.

“My?” Claude encouraged.

“Your...belt...is poking me,” Ingrid grounded out, turning a deeper shade of red. Her refusal to mention his hard-on out loud was too cute. He had to tease her more.

“Ah...My _belt_. Sorry about that.” Claude whispered. He unbuckled his belt and dragged it out of the loops as slowly as he could. Pressing his nose into her hair, he savored her shivers of anticipation when he let the belt fall to the floor loudly. 

“There. All better?” he murmured, pressing his hips closer to her ass. He trailed kisses from her ear down to her neck, nipping and biting in intervals.

Ingrid only replied with his name, but the derisive way she said it drew a strange sound out of him, something in between a whine and a chuckle.

“Please, baby,” Claude groaned against the curve of her neck. “I’m nearing my limit.” He wasn’t above begging, knowing full well that his submission made her weak.

Ingrid turned off the stove without a word. Claude took it as permission and dragged her to the kitchen island with one hand, the other carelessly pushing utensils and ingredients aside to make space.

“Bed. The bed,” Ingrid said, unable to string a coherent sentence once Claude slipped a hand into her panties to play with her clit.

“Sorry. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m at my limit,” Claude said in between heavy pants. “Shit, why do you have to be so cute and sexy, Ingrid?” 

“Honeymoon...period,” Ingrid replied, her casual words incongruent with the way her hips were desperately pushing back against him.

Claude choked out a strangled chuckle. She wasn’t wrong but was she trying to ruin the mood? Half as punishment and half because he really couldn’t take it anymore, Claude pulled out his cock and pushed into her without so much of a warning.

“You’re so...wet...so hot,” Claude whispered against her hair. He kept his thrusts slow and shallow, the breathiness quality of his voice betraying how difficult it was for him to not blow his load then and there.

Ingrid turned her head back for a kiss, her face shiny with sweat and eyes hazy with lust. “Claude,” she whined against his lips, against his tongue, his teeth. “Claude.”

“Mmmm?” 

“Fuck me.” 

Claude almost cried in relief. Instead, he pulled halfway out of her before slamming back in with wild abandon. “Like this?” he said softly as though he wasn’t fucking her like his life depended on it.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Claude knew that this position must be really uncomfortable for her, especially with the way she was twisting her body to keep making out with him. His concern flew out the window when she suddenly clenched.

“Did you...did you come?” he asked, groaning with the effort to maintain his pace instead of savoring her orgasm.

Ingrid shook her head almost desperately. “Almost. I’m close.”

“I’ll...get...you...there.” 

“Claude,” Ingrid gasped. She clutched at his hair desperately, digging her nails into his scalp painfully. Claude cursed shakily as her cunt spasmed around his cock. He didn’t make it in time to kiss her when his own orgasm hit.

“Ouch!” Ingrid shrieked when Claude couldn’t stop himself from collapsing on top of her.

“Sorry! Sorry! Shit. I can’t get up.”

Ingrid let out an exhausted sigh. “...I kind of hate you.”

“Me too,” Claude replied with a weak chuckle, leaning his head into the hand that was lovingly stroking his hair.

Thanks to the post-orgasmic high, Claude couldn’t even dodge when Ingrid kicked him off of her. He fell to the floor with a loud thump and a pathetic cry. “I meant, ‘I love you!”

**Author's Note:**

> for anyone curious it was nakazawa masatomo's "Oshiete ageru - Amai okashi no tsukurikata"


End file.
